


Justice and Heartbreak

by SirLancelotTheBrave



Series: Love and Brotherhood [5]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Athos being supportive, D'Artagnan is sad and angry, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, but he gets a hug, he just really needed a hug in this episode, then he gets hugs from everyone else too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLancelotTheBrave/pseuds/SirLancelotTheBrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't bear your burdens alone, my friend. You wouldn't want to turn out like me." Set after "The Challenge." Athos finds D'Artagnan just after he leaves Treville's office and offers him his sympathy for the loss of his farm. Later, Aramis tries to get to the bottom of D'Artagnan's sudden lack of faith in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"There's no easy way to tell you this."

D'Artagnan allowed his head to fall back and thud dully against the wall behind him. He felt as if he were looking at the world through a thick mist. Nothing felt quite real. He couldn't believe, couldn't accept that his farm had been razed to the ground. After all these years, how could it just be gone?

He had grown up there. Learned to ride there. Learned to fence. Everything he had owned had been in that house. All he had left of his family, of his _father_. Destroyed by a man with the heart of a monster.

He took a shuddering breath, trying to feel something, anything, but all there was within him was an empty void _. What do I do now?_

He hadn't ever intended to go home again, not really. From the moment he had helped save Athos he knew he would remain in Paris and do whatever it took to become a Musketeer. But in those cherished dreams his farm had remained as a bastion, a sanctuary. It was to be an untouched place of safety, a symbol of all he hoped to protect. Now it was gone. So what was he left fighting for?

His only real option was to pray for a commission, but how would he ever get one now? His best chance was this contest, but with no funds for the entry fee it was a hopeless dream. Constance would have no choice but to turn him out. He would be destitute. And everything had been going so well.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there with his back pressed against the cold wall. He looked up in surprise as a shadow fell over him.

It was Athos.

The older man was staring down at him, eyebrows raised in a look D'Artagnan hadn't seen before. If he had to categorize it, he'd call it the _I will kill whoever hurt you_ look. He blinked, surprised at the thought. He must be imagining it. Surely Athos didn't care _that_ much.

"Something the matter?" Athos asked, his tone odd. He sounded almost protective.

"Why do you ask?" D'Artagnan kept his voice even as he craned his neck back to meet Athos's eyes.

"You are sitting in the dirt against a wall with an expression like a wounded animal," Athos told him bluntly. "Clearly something is wrong. Do you wish to discuss something of a personal nature?" He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Shall I send for Aramis? Emotion is his forte."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "There's nothing to discuss." He pushed himself to his feet, tired of his helpless position.

"D'Artagnan, you have yet to learn the noble art of concealing your feelings," Athos informed him dryly.

"Yes, well, it's a pity I'm not a noble, isn't it?" he sneered, a wave of bitterness crashing through him. It was instantly tempered with a tinge of guilt. Athos didn't deserve to be sniped at.

But the older man seemed unfazed. "What has happened?" he asked in a tone that brooked no arguments.

D'Artagnan glared at him for a moment. "Don't bear your burdens alone, my friend," Athos murmured, unusually gentle. "You wouldn't want to turn out like me."

That won him the barest hint of a smile, and D'Artagnan at last relented.

"LaBarge burned down my farm." Athos blinked, surprise turning into a grim sort of sympathy and fury.

"There is no hope of saving it?"

D'Artagnan shook his head, bile in his throat. "There's nothing left to save. It's all gone."

Athos nodded slowly. "I am sorry."

"Everything I had was on that farm," D'Artagnan told him helplessly. "My family's belongings, my father's tools…"

"It is a grievous loss," Athos said solemnly.

"I just always thought it would be there forever. It was my home. And now it's gone." To his embarrassment and horror, he felt himself on the verge of tears, a lump forming painfully in his throat. He struggled to breathe, unwilling to shame himself in front of Athos. Perhaps he should have let the man call for Aramis. It would've been less embarrassing to cry in front of him. In front of anyone but Athos, really. He respected the man too much.

He looked down, unwilling to allow Athos to see his shame, and to his surprise he felt Athos's arm go round his shoulder in an awkward, hesitant embrace. Beyond shocked, D'Artagnan stood frozen as Athos carefully hugged him, surprised at the warmth in the gesture. Tentatively, he hugged back, and the hollowness within his chest receded a bit.

Athos let him go after a moment, stepping back and clearing his throat uncomfortably. D'Artagnan felt shy all of a sudden, but squared his shoulders and met the older man's eyes. "You will have justice, D'Artagnan." Athos's voice was steady and sure. "What will you do in the meantime?"

His spirits sank again. "I don't know," he said glumly. "All my income was from that farm. If I could compete and win the pot, I'd have a chance, but I don't have the entry fee. And if I can't compete, how will I ever win my commission?" He felt helpless and small.

Athos scuffed a foot on the ground, face blank. D'Artagnan felt suddenly resentful of the other man's birth. He was a noble; he probably had more money than he knew what to do with. Part of him wished enviously that Athos would offer him the entry fee, but a larger part was glad Athos offered no charity. His pride was wounded enough.

"Have hope, young Gascon," Athos said at last, expression unreadable. "You will have your justice, and your commission, soon enough." The simple faith soothed some of his pain, and he offered the older man a small smile of gratitude.

Athos nodded in return and clapped a hand to his shoulder before strolling back to the courtyard and leaving D'Artagnan alone with his thoughts. Perhaps Athos was right and he would receive justice. Treville said the list had come from the Cardinal. He would appeal to the man for his fair compensation. LaBarge had been under his control, after all.

He felt a flare of righteous anger in his belly, and it was such a relief from the previous emptiness that D'Artagnan made no attempt to check it. He let it grow into a blaze of fire as he went to saddle his horse, ready to confront the Cardinal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter involves some gratuitous hugging because I've been writing too many angsty fics and I needed some happiness. Porthos hug included because it felt unfair to let Athos and Aramis have all the fun.

Aramis caught Porthos's eye across the table, sensing his unspoken concern. As one they turned to glance at D'Artagnan. The newest Musketeer sat silently at the table, drinking steadily. When they'd first arrived to celebrate his commission, the boy had laughed and smiled and been in full spirits. But as the evening wore on, the lad withdrew. He was now doing his best Athos impression, drinking and staring about him sullenly. Athos himself was absent, having accompanied Treville to the garrison and promising to join them later.

Aramis wished he were here now. D'Artagnan looked as if he could use some assistance, and Aramis sensed that Athos knew best what was troubling the boy. His heart had been broken, that was clear from his comment. _Never put your trust in love._

Aramis hadn't been scorned in years, and even when ladies turned him down, he'd always had Porthos by his side to salve his wounded pride. He was unsure how to proceed, but someone had to do something, and Porthos certainly wouldn't initiate a conversation about _love_.

He smiled brightly at the serving girl as she refilled their tankards and leaned in. "So, young D'Artagnan, you are one of us at last. And yet here you sit, looking as if the world's worst misfortune had befallen you." The boy started and plastered a smile on his face hurriedly, but Aramis was not fooled. "Tell me, lad, whatever has stolen your cheer on this joyous occasion?"

"It's nothing," D'Artagnan said shortly.

"Nothing would not leave you drinking like a man lost in a desert," Porthos pointed out helpfully, and Aramis glared at him. They were supposed to be doing this gently, dammit.

"You needn't concern yourselves," D'Artagnan insisted.

Aramis sighed theatrically. "Come now, my friend. You are young. You should be enjoying yourself, tonight of all nights! And yet you drink and tell us never to trust in love." He shook his head sadly. "That's something I expected to hear from Athos, never from you, D'Artagnan. You shine too brightly to sink to that level. What has happened?"

"Can't a man drink in peace without people jumping down his throat?" D'Artagnan growled. "Leave me be. For once, I'd like to forget. So let me drink!"

Aramis shared a concerned glance with Porthos. This was worse than they'd thought. This was no petty issue of dashed hopes masquerading as a broken heart. This was real heartbreak, pure and simple, and Aramis again wished Athos were here. Porthos, sensing the conversation entering dangerous territory, made a run for the bar. Aramis glared at his cowardly back, musing to himself.

Who had broken the lad's heart? The only woman he interacted with, as far as Aramis knew, was Madame Bonacieux, but surely she was far too good a woman to crush his spirits so brutally. He had to find out.

"D'Artagnan?" he began cautiously. "Has something happened to Madame Bonac-" D'Artagnan snarled before he could get her name out, and he stopped, thinking hard. It was her then, and it was intentional. Somehow, for some unfathomable reason, she had ruined the boy.

"Love is complicated, my friend," he said softly, trying to offer what solace he could. "But do not let one bad experience ruin your faith. You will love again."

"I don't love her!" D'Artagnan cried suddenly. "I don't want to love her." There was anguish in his voice, and his eyes shone in the firelight. "And I don't want to talk about it." The final words were a whisper. Aramis knew he must respect the lad's privacy, but he couldn't leave it like that. The boy needed comforting, so he rose and swept the boy into a warm hug in one swift movement.

D'Artagnan tensed for a moment. Aramis wondered vaguely if he was about to get punched, but then the lad allowed the embrace, one hand fisting lightly in Aramis's jacket, and Aramis smiled to himself. D'Artagnan was too young and too hopeful to be broken by this. He would be all right in the end. His friends would see to that.

When Porthos came back, Athos was with him. D'Artagnan smiled at them both, and Aramis was relieved to see it was a true smile, even if it was tinged with sadness. Athos flashed him a grateful eyebrow raise, surmising correctly what had occurred.

Aramis knew D'Artagnan's pain was still close, but the boy seemed to have escaped its clutches for the evening at any rate. He smiled easier and cracked a few jokes as the night wore on. He even made Athos chuckle with a particularly apt comment about LaBarge's lineage, which according to D'Artagnan contained such illustrious ancestors as a boar and a bulldog. Aramis laughed along with the others. D'Artagnan would be okay.

It was Porthos who called for the good port to be brought. Pulling D'Artagnan to his feet, he proposed a toast to the newest Musketeer. The boy had smiled and laughed and drained his glass, and then Porthos had grabbed him in a fierce bear hug that Aramis knew from experience could crack bones. His feet actually left the ground. D'Artagnan looked dazed but pleased when Porthos released him, winking at Aramis over the lad's back. Athos clapped him on the shoulder and Aramis offered him a salute, and they drank and laughed together until the innkeeper threw them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any scene you'd like to see me cover, let me know! And please review :)

**Author's Note:**

> Aramis trying to get to the bottom of D'Artagnan's unhappiness is next. Please review!


End file.
